Instructions for Love (2 page)

“Yes, I do oversee this plantation.” His statement was true. He did watch over everything on his acreage.

The kettle’s whistle gave him relief from the conversation. He dumped water on the grounds, didn’t give it much time to drip, and served her a tiny cup.

“Thanks. Oh, you aren’t having any?” Erin quit talking and took a long swallow. She coughed as though she might spit it out. “This is strong.”

Dane sniggered. The woman looked funny, as though she struggled to hold back a frown.

“But I’m certain you get used to it—once you acquire a taste.” She took a deep breath and sipped, this time slower. “It’s better already.”

He had to admire her. She didn’t give up. “Glad you like it.”

Dane surprised himself by realizing he meant what he said. Only moments ago he wanted her to dislike his much-too-strong coffee and everything else about this place. He’d been with meaningless women since Anna but had taken none to their home. He hadn’t allowed any of them to sit in their kitchen.

“I wonder if I’ll see the woman who gave me the envelope again,” Erin said.

If she stayed around, she certainly would meet his mother again. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Erin pushed up to her feet. “I appreciate the coffee. And I really don’t have time to stay.”

Her statement pleased Dane. “Then I’ll be glad to help you.” He reached for her

luggage, but she yanked it up. His hand grazed hers, and heat shot through him at her touch. He moved his hand aside.

She stared at him, eyes wider. “I think I’ll just go to my room.”

He stepped aside to give her a wide birth toward the back door. “You already have a room at the hotel?”

“I did for tonight, but I cancelled it. I don’t really have time but I guess I’ll have to stay. My aunt was more like a mother than my own, who’s off to Europe with her newest husband, and this is the only thing Aunt Tilly ever asked of me.” She started toward the rear section of the house. “So I’ll have to sleep here.”

“You can’t stay here!” Dane wedged himself between the quick-moving Erin and the part of the house with bedrooms.

“But I have to.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do. For four days.”

“No way.”

“Aunt Tilly insisted. Look.” Erin’s hands shook while she unclasped her envelope.

Dane glimpsed her full lips, unable to avoid seeing their tremble when she showed him the first page. Whatever Erin saw on these papers caused her grief, but she’d surely read her aunt’s request wrong.

He read the first page. Tilly had written brief paragraphs. She acknowledged her love of Erin and adoration of her late husband.

Dane clenched his teeth, steeling himself from reliving the anguish of losing a loved one, and skimmed the rest of Tilly’s words.

The woman standing too close to him and studying his face had read correctly. Tilly said to stay in her plantation home. She mentioned the shell driveway from the highway, the pecan and banana trees growing at the side of the garage, and the white plantation house half circled by a veranda, which he called the big porch. She mentioned the screened section of the veranda outside the master bedroom. But didn’t say it was
his
bedroom.

Tilly told Erin that today she should read only this first page of what she’d written.

My sweet Erin, stay in my home in Rainbow Bayou, and you’ll be accomplishing my will.

Instructions for Day 1: SURVEY THE PLANTATION
.

Dane flipped up the bottom of the page to see what other ridiculous statements Tilly made on the next pages. The apprehension in Erin’s eyes made him stop. He handed her the papers.

She slid them back into the envelope. “I’m sure Aunt Tilly must have meant her wishes—and not that she was willing me this whole plantation.”

“She can’t do that!” He’d need to tell Erin that for some reason, her aunt lied.

“Oh? But I imagine you know I’m not her only relative. Aunt Tilly was my father’s sister, but no one knows where he is. They have a married brother. But when I called to tell him she died, he didn’t sound too interested. And of course, he didn’t come.” She sniffled into a tissue.

Anger broiled in Dane’s chest. “Tilly was such a likeable person. Why wouldn’t her brother care?”

His visitor dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “He and his wife didn’t agree with the way she acted. She did lots of funny things, like running off to find exciting work in Los Vegas.” A half-smile came to Erin’s lips. “And they didn’t think that at her age, she should run down here to move in with a man she’d briefly met.”

“But they married. And Cliff was a terrific man.” Dane couldn’t believe the hot-pepper rage ripping through him at Tilly’s brother. And Erin’s father. Why wouldn’t he let Erin know where he was?

Dane would probably never meet these people, but their unfair attitude toward the deceased couple—and Erin—made him want to show them how wrong they had been.

“And now,” Erin said, “I have a real problem. I really needed to rush back to New York tomorrow.”

“Your words and the way you move… everything about you seems constantly in a hurry.” He spoke without considering. He
wanted
her to rush back to where she came from.

Erin held back her laugh. Of course she must talk and move fast—compared to him. Dane Cancienne seemed to pause between every thought, word, and motion. He spoke with a unique pleasant accent, deep but not flat. The bayous she’d driven near to reach this place appeared extra lazy. But not him. His jean-clad rugged body and mannerisms exuded great strength. Maybe it was his forcefulness causing her to act almost giddy. She did ordinarily speak quickly, but not using rapid-fire words as she kept doing with this man. Of course the burial must be adding to her strain, even if her aunt didn’t want her to experience any sorrow.

He stood in front of Erin. The muscular chest she’d seen exposed moments ago expanded even more with his breathing. His black hair was mussed, surely from her arrival when he was changing from dressier funeral clothes. His skin, tanned from working in the fields, set off intense eyes the color of warm honey. An instinct surged through her to slide up to tip-toe and press her hand against the plane of his cheek. And pull his head down and kiss his lips.

She stifled the wayward thought. This man probably only tempted her because she was lonely down here, and he had been close to her aunt.

“Tomorrow is probably Day 1,” she said, needing to break the moment’s spell. “I’m exhausted from this cheerless day, so I’ll just check out the bedrooms tonight.”

Beyond Dane, she spied interesting rooms with high ceilings. Old-fashioned pale green wallpaper with magnolia blossoms coated the wall in her view. A room she spied to the left held varnished furniture and the railing of a stairwell that probably ran up to the sleeping quarters. The railing and doorframes had been built from uneven wood, thick and warm to touch.

She clasped Dane’s forearm to get him to move aside.

The muscles’ firmness made her wince. An awakening stirred through her. “So where do you live?” she asked, wishing her voice hadn’t risen.

He stared down at her. “Here.”

Erin swallowed. Should she fear him? He had been making himself quite at home in her aunt’s kitchen. A hopeful thought came. “Are you married?”

He appeared to sink against the doorjamb, his head making a slight sideways motion.

Erin used the moment to slip past him. “I’ll stay in the guestroom.” She forced a yawn, hoping she wouldn’t have to try to force him out. “Do you have a cottage out back? Aunt Tilly told me there were some pretty ones.”

Seeming to regain his strength, he took her suitcase. “No, I stay here. In this house.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of what else to say, couldn’t even continue her blubber. With a steadying breath, she headed for the stairwell.

“Not up there. That’s storage, junk in the attic. The door’s locked.”

She took her foot off the first step.
Come on now
, she told herself,
stop acting so uncertain.
“What a pity,” Erin said. “It seems that nice rooms for guests could have been created up there, or that would be a great place for children. Of course Aunt Tilly didn’t have children. Maybe the previous owners didn’t have any either.”

A haunted expression touched Dane’s eyes, replaced with a harsh stare. He didn’t award her a response.

Chapter Two

We
would have
redone the rooms upstairs, Dane considered, biting down and trying to force away the anguish he experience by remembering. “The bedrooms are back there.”

“Of course.” Erin squared her shoulders. Her hair skimmed over them as she glanced from side to side walking ahead of him, her heels rapping against the oak floor. “Maybe that used to be a dining room. And this must be the office—it’s a little messy.”

“It always is.”

She faced him wearing a small grin. “I was kidding. I’m not a neat-nik myself.” A moment of quiet passed, unusual for this woman. “Are you always so serious?” she asked.

“What should I smile about?”

Maybe she mistook his intentions. An expression of fear, quick as a harvester could slice a cane stalk, reached her eyes. Erin turned and hurried ahead of him. “What a nice settee,” she said, scampering through the foyer. “I wish I knew the name of all those antique pieces. Oh, and the pictures. But none of them show people. I’ll probably find photos of Aunt Tilly and her husband in their bedroom.”

Not hardly, Dane thought. She wouldn’t even find pictures of Anna. They’d made him so lonesome he’d put them all away.

Erin stopped, although she still appeared to be moving. Maybe from her body shift away from his. Possibly because she’d quit talking.

Her small frame seemed to wither. He might let her spend a night here and explain things in the morning. She would need a night to get rid of exhaustion. Until tomorrow, he could avoid her.

She pulled up to a standstill.

Dane watched her. “What’s the matter?”

The front of her black jacket rose with the deep breath she drew in. “I see through these doors what must be a row of bedrooms. It doesn’t appear that anyone uses this first one, so this will be fine. Where do you sleep?” Her eyes hinted of concern, immediately replaced with a confident expression.

Dane kept his grin from appearing. One moment she acted like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s crosshairs, the next she seemed like a boar ready to charge its huntsman.

He pointed toward the front of the house. “That’s my bedroom.”

She didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“Erin?”

“I was thinking. I don’t know much about plantation life, but this whole thing seems strange. I would’ve thought an overseer had his own place and wouldn’t need to stay in the main house.” Before he could respond, she continued. “Aunt Tilly was frugal, mainly because she didn’t have much. But then if she married a man who owned a place like this, I’d think she would pay enough so that you could at least rent your own apartment.”

Dane couldn’t stop his smile from showing. “It’s all right,” he said to lighten her concern for him. He’d need to be gentler. At least she showed compassion.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to--”

“It really is okay. I get by.”

Apparently Erin recovered from what she thought was a blunder. “I’m sure you do. You appear to be doing quite well.”

Was that a slinky gaze she ran over his body?

Dane’s smile widened. She yanked her suitcase from his hand. “Well then… I see that this door between your bedroom and this one hangs a little.”

They stood in the bedroom at the rear of the house. Two others came next, each separated by only a door. When he’d pointed, she must have thought his room was the middle one. But what was her concern about a door slightly hanging?

“So,” she said, “it probably doesn’t close too tightly. I believe I’ll just take the master bedroom.”

“Master bedroom?” A quick appraisal of the situation made Dane determine he needed to tell her the truth this moment.

She stood, head high, shoulders rigid. The set of Erin’s mouth gave her the appearance of a woman who was certain of her rights and would insist on them like a farmer determined to get just prices for his crops.

The fullness of her lips, however, only looked like they were meant to be kissed. Long, lingering kisses. And her cheeks would be soft to the touch. And beneath her straight black dress and jacket, her body would be as shapely as her legs.

“No,” he said, stopping his thoughts from straying where they ventured.

“What? I can’t have that bedroom? I don’t think Aunt Tilly would mind. Do you?”

“No, you can do anything you want.” Dane turned away. The last thing he noticed was the way she yanked up her lowered suitcase and shoved through the next doorway.

He might be able to put up with this annoying, tempting woman until tomorrow without telling her that Tilly lied, which would certainly hurt her. But how would he get his clothes out of the closet in the room she was about to sleep in?

“What a beautiful room.” Erin strode into the master bedroom, wishing Dane hadn’t followed. His presence in a bedroom made her flustered.

“It’s not bad,” he said.

She set down her luggage and saw him glancing at their surroundings. Her gaze followed his toward the huge antique bed with massive posts, the grass green shutter doors that probably opened to the verandah, the armoire and matching vanity, the closed door to what must be a closet, and the open one that clearly led to a bathroom.

Had he ever been allowed entry into this room? Was he casing it for valuables?

“You’re shivering,” he said. “Maybe I need to raise the temperature.”

He left the room, and she sighed with relief. He might go to his own room and keep a distance from her. After all, who knew what this man, left to oversee the fields, might do with no remaining owners around?

She shut the door to his bedroom and immersed herself in her aunt’s sanctuary. She liked the feel of the worn doorknob, robbed of color by age. A key would be needed to lock the door, but she hadn’t seen one in the keyhole on either side. At least, she hoped, he would find the door closed and take it as an indication that she didn’t want company.